


Thoroughly Modern Steve

by Panatlantic



Category: The Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panatlantic/pseuds/Panatlantic
Summary: Freshly defrosted Steve decides he has had enough of shield and makes a break. To do this he will have to become more modern. love? A modern man needs money!
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Thoroughly Modern Steve

_A very badly done AU based on Thoroughly Modern Millie_

_– someone else did it first? Tell me in comments! I want to read it!_

* * *

**Scene 1**

When Steve Rogers woke in the 21stCentury his first instinct had been _escape_. That hadn’t worked out so well. But now… he was ready. He’d studied magazines and books. Memorized the subway map. Learnt to use the Googles.

Everything was different from 1944, that was for sure, but this time he wasn’t going to be dazzled by impossibly high buildings and bustling pedestrians. And if worst came to worst he could always go back to SHIELD again (mostly on account of the fact he didn’t actually get permission to leave in the first place).

This was the new, improved, thoroughly modern Steve – the War he’d signed up for was over and he wasn’t going to be some puppet for SHIELD. Peggy might have started SHIELD, but Peggy was gone, and Steve needed to move on.

First thing first, to change his looks, ($25 for a haircut!) Steve hadn’t really had access to much money. He couldn’t help but wonder how annoyed Fury would be when he found out his wallet had been borrowed. Luckily, Fury was in the habit of carrying unmarked bills.

Steve pulled at the too tight shirt. The sales clerk had assured him it fitted just fine but Steve had his doubts. Apparently that was just how people were wearing them these days… and Steve did want to look modern…. now he just had to act casual and blend in with the crowd.

Suddenly Steve felt a pull on his scarf from the left. _Act casual and not super soldier!_ A tug on his pocket from the right! _Can’t stand out!_ A hand on his backside. _!!!!!_ And moments later he was on his butt in an alley (ironically the most familiar part of the ordeal because pre-serum Steve was very, very familiar with being pushed down in alleys).

“Hey! Gimme back my wallet!” Startled Steve. And Jacket. Scarf. Left shoe. People stole shoes now? “Help! Somebody!” Steve got up and prepared to chase them, but exiting the alley the thieves had blended in with the crowd. “Ma’am?” He questioned one woman. She looked at him blankly. “Did you see where they went?” When she ignored him he tried another. “Sir? Did you see them? A white haired man and a girl dressed in red…” Another non-response. “Miss! Please.. they took my wallet….” Ignored again. Steve looked around quickly, making momentary eye contact with a man in a navy blue suit who quickly fixed his eyes on his phone and kept walking. “Sir?” Insisted Steve.

Tony kept his eyes glued to the screen. Barely dressed hot guys begging for attention were always a trap. No exceptions. The unfortunate thing about pretending to not see someone was of course you didn’t noticed when they stuck out their foot and tripped you up.

“Son of a bitch!” Exclaimed Tony. From the ground. Shit. “This is Armani!” He accused, gesturing to his ripped knees.

“That man! He stole my wallet!”

“Suck it up Kansas.”

“Kansas?” Asked Steve momentarily distracted.

“Well you’re definitely not from around here if it’s your first mugging.” Grumbled Tony. “Anyway, you don’t own the sidewalk, learn to share it with the rest of us! You should know you could hurt someone!"

“Oh. Well.” Said Steve downcast. He’d thought he was blending in at least a bit. It hurt that the first person he’d had an exchange with saw straight through him. “Then you should know I meant to trip you.”

“Seriously? What the fu…”

“My wallet's gone!” Tony shrugged at him in a ‘not my problem’ gesture. “My jacket… my scarf… my… shoe!” Steve looked down morosely at his one remaining converse. What was someone even going to do with one shoe? Unless they knew a one legged man who was also a size 10…

“They stole… your shoe? Who would steal just one shoe? ”

“While I was wearing it! Ten minutes in this place, and Im living a New York horror story!”

“Kansas, you’re my New York horror story.” Tony pulled away because good looking folks claiming to have been robbed were a dime a dozen in NYC when you were a well known billionaire.

“But it’s every penny I have!”

“Hey, I feel for you.” Cajoled Tony. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be crossing the street the next time I see you, but I feel for you. Guys like you arrive here every day, so full of dreams you may as well be sleepwalking. Well now that you’re awake, why not ask yourself, “Do I belong here?” ‘Cause New York is great, but the cost of living is high, and I’m not talkin’ about money. And I can’t help but thinking if I were in your shoes… sorry… shoe, I’d make a beeline back to Kansas.”

“And who are you, the un-welcome wagon?” Snapped Steve defiantly. There didn’t seem to be any reason to say he was from Brooklyn, Steve's Brooklyn hadn’t existed in over half a century.

“I’m just trying to tell you the way it is! Look, you got a place to stay?”

“No, but-“

“Any friends or family nearby?”

“No, but-“

“And you don’t have a job?”

“No, but-“

“No buts. So you have nothing?” The words were extremely effective. Steve looked morsels at his shoes. Correction. Shoe. “Look Kansas, I’m doing you a favor, give me your hand.” Tony held out his left hand palm up, and Steve wordlessly placed his own hand over it. Tony wrote something on the back of Steve’s hand.

“The “Hotel Priscilla”?”

“It’s a rooming house for… uh… people in your circumstances. They won’t ask for ID or expect you to pay upfront. Get a good nights sleep, then tomorrow call your parents and get them to transfer you some money, buy a plane ticket.” Tony wrapped his hand around Steve’s bicep…. which was deliciously firm. He patted it for emphasis. “Boy do I bet they’re missing you on the farm.“ Tony gave the muscle one more squeeze before releasing it.

“Farm?” Steve asked incredulously, but Tony had already wandered away.

* * *

Tbc


	2. Scene 2-6

**Scene 2**

**1 week later**

The lobby of the Hotel Priscilla was modest yet tasteful (probably, Steve had no point of comparison for this century) and not at all rundown or dirty. Much classier than Steve’s old apartment in Brooklyn.

“Girls, have you seen the Daily Bugle?” Said Nat.

“Manhattan’s Most Eligible Bachelors!” Squealed Susan making grabby hands.

“No! The headline! Sex Trafficking. Innocent girls forced into lives of licentiousness and degradation!”

“Well… that’s one way to meet a man.” Remarked Maria dourly.

“It’s no joke. They’re shipped overseas where they’re sold into prostitution. Dozens are believed to be missing, mostly orphans.”

“Sad to be all alone in the world. Though none of you need worry, what with your big, warm families." Remarked Elisa Sinclair, proprietress of the Hotel Priscilla.

“I’m an orphan.” Remarked Steve. “But I guess I don’t have to worry.” The entire table broke out in disbelief, because no one was quite as vulnerable and sexually naive as Steve.

“I had no idea, no brothers or sisters?” Simpered Mrs. Sinclair.

“None.” Said Steve.

“Cousins, Aunts, Anyone to keep a tab on you?” She continued eagerly. When Steve shook his head she tutted a little. “You poor dear. Come into my office and enjoy a soothing cup of green tea. We can discuss your rent.”

“I… don’t have it yet- “ Began Steve entering the office. Even super human speed and strength could apparently not compete with lack of a social security number.

“That’s… okay dear… drink the tea…” Mrs. Sinclair eagerly pushed it into his hands. Normally she stuck to trafficking women, but there was certainly a lucrative market for men, especially ones that looked like Steve.

“I should be able to get a job soon though.” Continued Steve, draining the cup. Usually the victim was out after a couple of sips, but then she was used to doping women, perhaps his larger size meant he needed a higher dose. Mrs. Sinclair filled the cup again. Steve drank it.

After the fourth cup Steve was showing signs of discomfort (probably from being stared at in silence), but not the expected sleepiness. Was there something wrong with the sedative? Did it not work on men?

“I… have a job interview… I need to go to.” Said Steve standing and backing out of the office.

“He’s back!” Remarked Maria as Steve left the office.

“We thought Sinclair was going to kick you out for sure. Anyone she takes into her office is usually gone within a day.”

“Steve. If you just need help with the rent, I can help out, hell we'll all kick in…” began Nat. Steve was their important eye candy and it would be a shame to lose him.

“No! If I can’t manage on my own there’s no point!” Declared Steve.

“Excuse me, I’d like to enquire about a room.” Said the newcomer, a diminutive brunette with luggage. “Could you point me toward the concierge?”

“I’m Steve, but I’m not sure we even have a concierge.” Said Steve.

“Heavens!” Declared Jan. “How quaint. This place is absolutely perfect!”

“Perfect for what?” Asked Steve.

“Why, to live in of course.” Steve looked skeptically at Janet’s expensive luggage and clothes. 

“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” He asked dubiously.

“Of course! Steve, you’re my very first poor person! I'm going to love it here!”

“Hey, I’m broke, not poor.” Huffed Steve, offended.

“What’s the difference?” Asked Jan.

“Poor… sounds permanent. Broke can be fixed. I have a plan…” Explained Steve.

“Oh, do tell!” Squealed Jan excited.

“Uh…” Steve looked around desperately, eyes alighting on the discarded newspaper from earlier. “This!”

It was supposed to be the job section.

“Oh Steve! You’re going to marry money! That’s delightfully wicked! I love it! So bold! So daring! You have my absolute support!”

“Huh?” Said Steve flipping the paper over to see Manhattan’s Most Eligible Bachelors in full color. Must not break cover – thought Steve. “Yes.” He said simply.

“So… which one Steve?” Giggled Jan

“Well… I don’t know. I haven’t chosen." Steve answered.

“Surely you believe that love…” Jan prompted.

“Love has nothing to do with it! This month’s issue of Vogue clearly states that modern marriage is a business arrangement. Love comes later, occasionally with the man you’re married to.” Steve had been doing a lot of reading lately and sometimes an eidetic memory was a curse.

“But, how will you find him?” Asked Jan.

“I’ll… just keep applying for jobs until I find one that’s single and then marry him.” This was clearly the wrong answer because Jan was tutting and smoothing out the Bachelors list again.

“What sort of jobs are you applying for? Do you have a CV? More importantly, what are you wearing to the interview?”

“Um..?” Said Steve.

“Oh dear, sweet, sweet Stevie. Jan will make it all better.”

* * *

“Mr. Rogers, It says here you have 3 years of experience with Van Dyne Industries..” Began the interviewer, looking at Steve’s impressive CV.

“You should ignore that part. It’s a lie.”

“Uh… well then, what experience do you have?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Skills? Surely you can use a computer?”

“I’ve never even touched one before. But I’m a fast learner.”

“Never? I… I see. Your references?”

“To be honest, I don’t even think those are real people’s names on there.” Said Steve, poking forcefully at the page.

“I’m going to speak frankly, what could you possibly have to offer…” Hammer froze as Steve did exactly as he’d been instructed. Jan had been very, very specific.

“Oops.” He said, dropping a pen onto the floor, and bending over to pick it up. Obviously it was some sort of 21st Century, insider secret code to employment because Jan had insisted he do it at all interviews.

“Welcome to HammerTech Mr. Rogers.”


	3. part 3

“Mrs. Sinclair! Mrs. Sinclair! I got the job!” Crowed Steve slamming the money down on the counter.

“Steven! Here, a welcoming gift. A sweet Californian apple for a sweet boy.“ Mrs. Sinclair offered him an apple. It was, of course, not just any apple, but one Mrs. Sinclair had injected with chloroform.

“West Coast?” Uttered Steve with a hint of disgust, before hiding his dismay with a polite smile (damn Yankees). “Er… I mean, thank you Mrs. Sinclair. It looks delicious.”

“Eat! Eat!” She encouraged. The failed attempt with the sedatives had not been forgotten, and the dosage might be just short of lethal, but what was a bit of kidney damage these days? Dialysis treatment had come so far….

Steve ate.

“You look tired, Steve.” Prompted Mrs. Sinclair after 5 minutes.

“I’m fine.” Said Steve. He couldn’t help but think he was kind of getting used to the well-meaning, yet socially awkward landlord who kept offering him food.

“Do you need a nap? Maybe you should take a nap?” She prompted again after 10 minutes.

“I’m good. Wide awake.”

“You want another apple?” She offered after 15 minutes.

* * *

“Jan? Jan!” Called Steve, attempting to get Jan’s attention when she entered the Lobby, purely happenstance and not to escape the awkward Mrs. Sinclair. “I did it!”

“Did what Steve?”

“I got a job! And he advanced me my first paycheck, so I’m taking you out to dinner to thank you.” Steve waved a wad of cash in front of Jan.

“Steve… there’s over three thousand dollars here… “ A stunned Jan replied.

“I know, and that’s after paying up rent for the next month!”

“Oh… ohhhhh! You got one!?” Squealed Jan, under the presumption Steve had scored himself a flush sugar daddy. “Spill the tea! Who is it?”

“HammerTech.”

Jan grimaced. “Justin Hammer? Was he even on the list?” She asked, disgusted.

“Number 98!” Exclaimed Steve. And dammit they made these lists too long for Jan’s liking… she’d totally stopped paying attention after the top 10. “I showed him the CV and did what you said and he gave me a job just like that!” Even Steve could catch a vibe when it came to Jan. Jan had the ability to telecast vibes in technicolor. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“Ehhh….” Jan flapped her hand about in a non-committal way. “I just feel you could do better.” No (real) experience, no (real) references… Somehow Steve wasn’t so sure. “Soooo, what does he have you doing?”

“Beats me. Something with computers?” Guessed Steve.

* * *

“Hello Buddha? Butterfly here. I got one for you. A genuine ingénue. An ass so firm you could bounce a dime off it. You interested? Yeah. 50K sounds reasonable, but Buddha… I need you to organize some horse tranquilizers for me… no… no particular reason….”

* * *

Tony had regrets when he snuck out of another boring charity fundraiser. This one had real clowns in addition to the metaphorical variety usually present and really wasn’t his vibe. It wasn’t like he didn’t believe in charity, just he didn’t feel he should be punished for donating to it.

Tony’s other regret (the blue balled variety) was walking away from that sweet piece of ass that had run into him a week ago without getting his number – the smell of milk had put him off at the time, but it wouldn’t have been Tony’s first virgin…. 

* * *

“Jan… I don’t think they serve food here.” Stated Steve frowning.

“Stevie sweetie, it’s a club. I think they do peanuts at the bar… now let me work the crowd. We’re gonna find you something better than Hammer.”

“What’s wrong with Hammer? I mean I know he has that thing where he drops stuff all the time, but maybe he’s just uncoordinated.” Jan looked unconvinced. “It could even be something serious like Parkinson’s or MS…” Steve had been using the Google’s again – one of the benefits of working a job with a computer.

“Look Steve, we’re getting you hooked up with the next guy that tries to pick you up.” Declared Jan. “No more acting all innocent and cute because we both know guys like you ain’t straight.” Jan may have been slightly pickled, having got the fringe benefits of Steve drinking three potential suitors under the table already. Jan pushed number 3 into the next booth over so it wouldn’t scare away another attempt.

“I’m not?” Replied Steve. Oh. Well that explained a lot. “I warned you alcohol doesn’t affect me that much.” Like why he liked sequins so much. And why he was so attracted to lipstick. And why he thought about dudes when masturbating.

“Why do they think they have to keep buying you drinks…” Jan stopped mid sentence. Oh yeah. Steve was perfect. Of course you didn’t pick up a guy like that without a whole lot of liquid courage (also read: without getting them sloshed first). Fair game. “The next guy Steve. I don’t care if it’s the goddamn Pope.”

“Kansas?” Declared a familiar voice. “You survived after all!” Steve Froze.

“No Jan!” Muttered Steve. “Not that one!”

“Yes Steve!” Corrected Jan purring. “That one!”

“Surprised to see you here, Van Dyne.

“Tony.” Stated Jan in a cool voice, a direct contradiction to her grin.

Tony leaned in to kiss her hand, Murmuring in a low voice. “As purely happenstance as our meeting is, we should jet. Some college kids are dealing crack in the back room and Jarvis says the cops are about to raid.”

“The police!?” Exclaimed Steve, quite startling the pair who thought he couldn’t hear the whispered conversation. “Jan, I can’t be arrested.” He’d be back at SHIELD before the cops had even filed the paper work.

“What’s the matter Kansas? Overdue library book?” Teased Tony.

“Tony!” Hissed Jan. “Steve, it’s fine, we have nothing to do with it.”

“Sorry not sorry.” Said Tony, before receiving a kick under the table from Jan. “These things happen all the time.” He mumbled, slightly apologetic. “Why? You scared?”

“Who says I’m scared?” Replied Steve eyeing the exits… Potential threats… Yeetable furniture... “Jan, I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” Steve pulled a hat off some drunk in the booth over and pulled it low over his eyes.

“Serious Kansas? You’re making a break for it? What have they got on you that you’re so worried about? I’m not always the best judge of character but Jarvis doesn’t have any facial recognition on you…” Steve tuned Tony out, since most of what he was saying made no sense anyway it was pretty easy. “So… jay walking? Minor misdemeanor? Parking ticket? Ohhh… tell me you tried to seduce a cop to avoid a ticket! Please be that.” The chosen exit had some kind of electronic lock on it. “You need me to crack that lock for you? I can do it in less than 5 minutes, I just need a…that’s steel Steve, you’re not gonna be able to force it… oh holy shit that is so unexpectedly, fucking hot!” Steve tossed aside the door while Tony fanned himself.

“Shut up, Tony!” Hissed Steve, pulling him into the alley. _(So so fucking hot!)_

Tony watched Steve duck down the alley to check the way before signaling him to follow. A couple of blocks later obviously they were in the clear because Steve started speaking.

“I’m sorry for dragging you along Tony.”

“So. Uh. That was impressive. With the door and the urgghh! And the grra and running and all. So what did you say you do again?”

“I …work. With computers.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Well. I only started a couple days ago. What about you?”

“I… work with machines. Inside them. Sometimes. I mean… not all the time…”

“Like a part time mechanic, huh? You should talk to Jan. She got me a full time job straight up. She says it was the pants but I’m pretty sure it was the CV. Those pants barely even fit me.”

“I do okay.” Justified Tony. “It beats just worrying about stock prices all day.”

“Stock?” Asked Steve.

“Stock… ings? I used to sell stockings for a living. Super boring. You’d hate it.”

“Like… ladies’ lingerie?” Asked Steve with evident disbelief. “I’d have pegged you for more of a second hand car salesman.”

“I’ll wear it. I like cars.” Said Tony decisively. Antique cars were kind of second hand after all and he had over 100 of those…

“Well, I guess we have that in common.“ Steve smiled. “Thanks for the tip off at the club.” He said genuinely, before switching topic. “You know, I saw a flying car once….”

* * *

When Tony woke up the next morning he felt good. No hangover and none of the usual pains associated with waking up in a stranger’s bed. This was largely due to the fact that he hadn’t actually even had a single drink the night before and (disappointingly) Steve hadn’t slept in the bed with him. Probably because Tony had pretty much come down from the adrenaline high by falling asleep back at Steve’s place.

“Hey Steeeeevie.” Grumbled Tony, barely awake as Steve dressed for work. “Wanna go grab a cup of coffee?” Because Steve’s homemade coffee was shit. Tony had found that out the night before.

“No can do. Got to get to work.”

“Surely your boss can let you off for being late just once?

“Well! You don’t know my Sugar Daddy.”

“Coffee makes you more productive so technically… wait… Sugar Daddy?” Queried Tony. Because… okay… unexpected….

“My boss.” Steve straightened his tie in the mirror. “He says I gotta call him that so I remember he takes sugar in his coffee.”

“And… why… daddy?”

“I’m not sure. Google says he probably has a father complex.”

“I… see…” Tony had a father complex. Tony had father complexes coming out the wazoo. He could work with this.

“I’m probably going to marry him.” Continued Steve.

“What?!? You only started working for him a couple days ago… Love at first sight?”

“Nope. Modern people take charge of their own destiny. No more waiting at port for my ship to come in. I went out and found it!”

“You’re… moving kinda fast there Steve.“

“Tony. I can’t afford to drag this out. I’m not getting any younger.”

“I kinda thought maybe you and I could… go out again sometime.”

“What? Us…? Together? On a date? I’m not a cheater…"

“Well no. Not a date, per say...” Tony forced out a laugh. “Jan! You. Me. And Jan! As friends.”

“I... guess that would be okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Son of a bitch….” Muttered Sinclair when Steve stretched off a ketamine dosed chinese takeout. Maybe he just needed a little bit of chloroform to push him over….

“Mrs. Sinclair?” Questioned Nat having just walked in.

“Cleaning!” Sinclair, who had been approaching Steve from his blind spot with a rag in one hand, immediately dropped to the carpet and started scrubbing. She didn’t trust the nosy redhead for a second.

“I can’t see anything…” Steve frowned.

“That’s because I just cleaned it.” Said Sinclair with a roll of her eyes.

“What kind of cleaner is that?” Asked Nat.

Sinclair glanced around. “It’ssssssssss…. soy sauce.” She answered, spotting the bottle on the table. “Work’s magic. “

“Doesn’t it stain?” Asked Steve, looking at the brown liquid suspiciously.

“Not if you rub it in properly!” Snapped Sinclair. Steve stared at the floor, and sure enough, there was no mark. Huh. Soy sauce. Who knew? Sinclair backed away from Nat’s suspicious glare.

“So Steve.” Started Nat. “What are you all dolled up for?”

“Is it a date? Tell me it’s a date!” Demanded Kamala, appearing at the hint of someone having a social life. Kamala was a student who had moved in shortly after Susan had left. For such cheap rent this place sure did have a high turnover of tenants.

“Booty call?” Suggested Nat.

“What? God no! Its just Tony!”

“Where’s he taking you?” Squealed Kamala.

“Well… no where special… just to meet his friend Thor.”

“Thor?” Asked Nat revealing no expression at all.

“He’s the guest of honor at that Met fundraiser. Tony got tickets through his work so he’s gonna introduce me.”

“Thor. As in the God of Thunder, Thor?” Nat clarified.

“It’s true!” Defended Jan putting in a dramatic entrance in her cocktail gown. “Tony knows all kinds of people!”

“Tony, the part time mechanic with no last name, who is not interested in you but accidentally keeps touching your butt?” Nat insisted, nailing Steve with a stare.

“Come Steve!” Interrupted Jan. “Time to go! No time for chit chat!” Sometimes Nat was far too observant for Jan’s own good.

* * *

“Steve? Thor. Thor? Steve.” Said Tony summarily. He was not overly enthused about the way Thor was eyeballing Steve at all.

“It’s an honor to meet you sir.” Managed a wide-eyed Steve. Unsure what the protocol for greeting a god was, Steve bowed. This of course made one more aware of his most excellent posterior.

“Nay, the honor is all mine!” Purred Thor, petting Steve’s shoulder “Truthfully I was not aware that men as attractive as yourself were to be found on Midgard, perhaps later we could arrange a private meeting… but behold, my good friend Tony requires our attention!” Tony, who had been making back-off motions directed at Thor, dropped his arms when Steve turned to face him.

“And Lady Janet! Your vestments are truly designed to draw the majority of combatants to yourself! In a battle you would surely be the first to perish! I approve most heartily!”

“Awww.. Thor, that’s so sweet!” Purred Janet.

“Now! Lest he escape, let us ply the lovely Steven with the beverages intoxicating!” Declared Thor, raising a glass.

“A most sound strategy indeed!” Agreed Janet – because she might be loyal to Tony, but if the opportunity to watch Thor and Steve make out was on the table (literally or figuratively… Jan wasn’t fussy), she could be persuaded. After all, she hadn’t spent 25 minutes (and a jar of Vaseline) getting Steve into those leather pants for Steve to be a wallflower all night.

“Uh… No. No it isn’t.” Interrupted Tony. “Steve’s with me!”

* * *

Things weren’t going that great with Mr. Hammer. This was largely due to the fact that Steve had tried to clean Mr. Hammers very expensive white linen suit (while Hammer was wearing it). At first Mr. Hammer had been delighted (obviously at Steve’s knowledge of the stain removing properties of soy sauce and not at the fact he was rubbing very close to Mr. Hammer Jr.). However the coffee stain hadn’t budged (although one might argue, it was effectively hidden now by a larger soy sauce stain) which had made Mr. Hammer quite furious (maybe it needed to be straight soy sauce, the one in the office fridge seemed to be a chili oil blend). Now he’d have to also explain why he’d been groped by a thunder god in public.

“Aw… c’mon Steve, relax! No one was even watching!” Cajoled Tony. Well. Except the paparazzi. But then, they weren’t real people.

“You think?” Tony nodded. “I know what it must have looked like but Jan dropped her purse and I was just picking it up for her. I swear!” Tony wasn’t sure what Steve thought it looked like… but it sounded awfully like he was apologizing for Thor’s hand grabbing his ass. “I told Jan these pants were too tight but she was very persuasive.”

“Steve.” Asked Tony seriously. “Do you actually know what sexual harassment is?”

Steve’s face said no. “Yes.” Said Steve’s mouth. This probably had to do with the term sexual harassment not being used until 1975.

“Are you sure?” Asked Tony, peering with suspicion.

“Well… I’m just glad nobody saw.” Exclaimed Steve, attempting a desperate subject change. “A scandal could cost me my job. “Mr. Hammer says- “

“Whoa. Hammer? Justin Hammer is sugar daddy?” Gasped Tony. “But… he’s an idiot!”

“Some would say so, but I see a side of him that few people are lucky enough to see. He’s... uh… a successful business man… “ Tony scoffed as Steve continued to rack his brain for something to say that was positive.. ”…he gave me a job when no one else would… “ Tony could give Steve 2 jobs! “…we have things in common… he likes coffee, I like coffee…“ Tony nodded approvingly, he was still in Steve’s strike zone “ “…annnnd tall. He’s tall. Tall is good.”

“OMG Steve… you’re so... so incredibly shallow!” Accused Tony. “You want to marry a guy for stupid reasons like financial security and peace of mind, be my guest!” And definitely not that other reason. Tony could get elevator shoes…

“Thank you, I will. The modern woman chooses reason over romance any day of the week.” Quoted Steve. Tony blinked. “Man! Modern Man!” Steve corrected.

“Look Steve, I just don’t think Hammer is right for you. You shouldn’t settle for the first guy that comes along like that… you should play the field a bit, get to know some more people…” _Like me._

“You think I should… date… with Thor?” Questioned Steve, horrified. “I’ve only met him once!”

“You’d only met Hammer once when you decided you’d marry him.” Countered Tony. And touché.

“So. You think I’m just some sort of … Jezebel? To throw myself at any man that comes along?” To be fair, the next man that came along had been Thor, which was a tough act to follow…

“More like gold digger… “ Steve gasped at Tony’s accusation. “But that’s not the point I was trying to make.” Winced Tony, exasperated because he was already wearing the lifts dammit, what was Thor anyway, 6’ 2? 6’ 3 at most. Tony tried to stand a little taller (and definitely not on his tippy-toes). “I think you should give other guys a chance.” _Like me._

“I… I think I’m going to go home now Tony.”

* * *

Steve did a lot of thinking on the walk back to the hotel. Was Tony right? He’d really had to think to come up with anything positive to say about Mr. Hammer. And he’d lied about the coffee. Steve didn't love coffee, he was neutral at best. Had he just imprinted on the first guy that gave him a job? It made sense when he thought about it…. if only everyone could explain things the way Tony did. Tony was smart, and helpful, and fun to talk to and…

There was a limo standing outside the hotel, which was unusual enough to pull Steve’s attention back from his musing. He hid in the shadows to ascertain the threat level.

Jan stepped out. “Now remember…” Said Tony’s voice form the car.

“I know… I know… Don’t. Tell. Steve.” Jan rolled her eyes.

“It’s our little secret.”

“But he’s my best poor friend!” Whined Jan. Tony used the puppy eyes. It was super effective. “Fine!” She grouched.

“Thanks Jan. Love you!” Tony embraced her, giving her a peck on the cheek.

Oh. Jan. And Tony. Well. That was nice. That was good. Steve’s two best 21stcentury friends. Together. That was… nice. He should be happy.

So what was this awkward feeling?

* * *

“No, it’s none of your business what I need it for. No! I’m not saying the ketamine was.. C. A. R. F. E. N. T. A. N. I. L. Look Buddha… can you get it or not?”

* * *

“Steve? Steve!” Demanded Hammer. “Where’s my coffee?”

Steve had been spacing out for the larger part of the morning. Justin Hammer was not impressed. He paid Steve to sit and look pretty, and occasionally make indecent noises when eating snacks, not sit there all depressed.

“Coming Mr. Hammer.” Startled Steve.

But never mind that. The bespoke mankini he’d ordered had arrived and Steve should be delightfully easy to convince it was office wear on account of the Hammer Industries logo on the rear.

“Mr. Hammer, Sir? Can I ask you a question?” Asked Steve, nervously pushing the mug across the desk. Tony had given him a lot to think about.

“Of course Steve! You know you can ask me anything.” Replied Hammer reaching into his desk draw. This newfound approachability was largely due to the positive reinforcement Justin had received previously from such lines of questioning, such as ‘would you mind if I dusted your Pissarro Sir?’ which hadn’t been at all what Justin had hoped, but instead involved Steve wiping down the frame of a painting on the wall (still reasonably fulfilling since Steve had to reach quite high to complete the task).

“Are you…” What Steve? In love with me yet? It was just like Tony said. He’d never even met with Mr. Hammer outside of the office. What did he even know about him? “Do you…” What? Like me? Steve pursed his lips a little in frustration because they hadn’t really covered this at super-soldier candidate training (Colonel Phillips rolled in his grave). Steve decided this was better put off until he’d had more time to think, so he did a quick subject change. What else did people talk about now? Uhhh… “Do you know what sexual harassment is?”

Justin slammed the drawer shut. Was this because he’s made Steve wax the office floor last week in his boxers with the flimsy excuse he didn’t want Steve to ruin his work clothes? Maybe that Justin had switched out all the self-seal envelopes with the dextrin adhesive kind so Steve had to lick them? Maybe the way he kept leaving breast-feeding pamphlets on Steve’s desk just in case Steve took the hint? “I have no idea what you’re implying Mr. Rogers.” Justin stated coldly.

* * *

“Pssst, Steve.”

Steve looked up at the whisper.

“Tony? Tony! What are you doing out there?” Demanded Steve. Which was a really good question seeing as this was the 15th floor and all.

It seemed like such a good idea, get the Ironman suit to deliver himself to Steve’s window. Except Steve’s window did not have a balcony. Or a fire escape. Just one tiny ledge which frankly would not hold the weight of the armor.

“How else was I going to get to see you? That crazy woman downstairs wouldn’t let me in.”

“Mrs. Sinclair?” Guessed Steve, and he couldn’t honestly defend the crazy part. She’d nearly hit him with a dart earlier but luckily he had excellent reflexes. "She’s…. quite… something? Look… I’m not really in the mood for visitors right now.”

“Bad day?” Suggested Tony.

Steve sighed and explained the situation “…and so it turns out, I was only on a trial.” he finished. “I was never even officially an employee!” Because it turned out that two grand a week in unmarked bills, shoved down your y-fronts was not, in fact a legally binding employment contract. Go figure.

“That’s. Uhh.” Tony reached for the right words to convey sincerity. The word was definitely not ‘unexpected’. “Tough. That’s tough Steve.”

“I know!” Moaned Steve.

“It’s… fine… I’ll help you get another job.”

“I dunno Tony. I was pretty useless as a PA.” Steve gave a deep sigh. “I’m thinking about going back to my old job.” Tony perked up, Steve had never really spoken about his old job, but Jan had money riding on closeted porn star. Tony’s counter argument for escaped Amish farmer didn’t quite hold up in daylight due to the fact Steve had already killed three houseplants this month.

“Or… you could come work for me.”

“You don’t have to do that Tony. I can look after myself. Plus you have Jan to worry about.”

“Why would I worry about Jan?” Asked Tony

“Well. You know.” Steve waved a hand vaguely. “You know?”

“Steve? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t deny it, Tony. Last night I saw you and Jan. Together. Talking.”

“Yes? I gave Jan a lift back last night.“

“It seemed private… an intimate conversation... you kissed her.” Steve continued with a hurt tone. “I mean I’m happy for you. Jan’s a swell girl. What can’t she tell me Tony?”

“As a matter of fact, it was. Private. I've been confused, Steve. Ever since you tripped me. Like now, for instance... what am I doing on a window ledge hundreds of feet in the air?“

“Tony… is this a suicide thing? Are you going to jump? Can you answer it inside, Tony? You’re making me nervous.”

“No thanks. I like the view. The world looks different from up here Steve.” Replied Tony, nonchalant. 

“Tony? Are you stuck? Do you need help?” Asked Steve, still perplexed as to how Tony had got up there in the first place. “I’m coming out!” Steve climbed out on the ledge where Tony was pressed against the wall. It wasn’t that Tony was particularly scared of heights, just that he wasn’t stupid. Even with the suit on standby it was a reckless spot to be.

“Steve? Don’t you have any fear of heights?” Questioned Tony when Steve joined him.

“Not really.” Replied Steve. “I’ve fallen further.” Tony doubted it but didn’t argue the point.

“Steve. Have dinner with me.”

“All right.”

“I know this place with a Michelin star. So swanky they don’t even put prices on the menu.”

“Deal. And Dutch treat.”

“Oh, no. That’s hardly a date Steve!”

“Oh yes. We’ll pool what money we have and blow it all on one memorable meal. And if we can’t afford to eat again for a month, who cares!"

* * *

“Thor. I just don’t know what to do!” Moaned Steve.

“I understand Steven. I, too, have had much difficulty adjusting to Earth.” Thor replied around a mouthful of mochachino.

“I have no skills, no income… I’m not even sure how to start over in this time frame.” Steve felt safe enough discussing his temporal displacement with Thor, who seemed to both understand nothing and everything at the same time. If anything, Thor seemed to be under the impression such a thing was normal. It was… refreshing. Steve sighed. “When I grew up was rough, I don’t want to live hand to mouth like that again.”

“I have both a mouth and not one, but two hands.” Declared Thor with a nod.

“I just need someone to rely on for a while."

"The mighty Thor has often had to rely on others. Although far less frequently than others have had to rely on him."

"Tony... Tony's been so good to me."

“Although puny and petty, Tony has been most generous in assisting me. Like a side kick."

“I can’t rely on Tony all the time. He’s got his own worries, he can’t afford to be looking after me as well.”

“When I was a child my father gave me a hammer. I thought he meant for me to be a carpenter. But the head was too wide for hammering nails and the handle was too short to make it a sledgehammer. My brother made many jests and I thought, this hammer is no good! But it was an enchanted hammer!” Declared Thor.

Steve waited. But apparently that was the whole story.

“Uhhh… okay.” Said Steve. “So I shouldn’t judge Tony because he might secretly be enchanted?”

“And make your brother jealous!” Chortled Thor.

Steve didn’t have a brother, but perhaps Thor was right. Looking back, Steve had enjoyed spending time with Tony. He had to talk to Jan!

* * *

“Jan! Jan?” Called Steve banging on the door.

“Rogers!” Snapped Nat.

“Nat?” Asked Steve. “Have you seen…”

“Look ‘Captain’,” She hissed. “I know who you are! I don’t know what Fury was thinking sending you in here but I’ve been undercover here for months now and you’re going to scare them off. They’d have to be blind to miss fricking Ironman entering the building last night!”

“Oh? Uh. That had nothing to do with me.” Ironman? Steve thought it might be prudent to not mention Thor dropping him off on the roof a few minutes back. “So… how long have you been dark?” Asked Steve casually.

“Since just before you arrived.” She huffed. Well that did explain why she was unaware of Steve’s AWOL status. “I swear to god if you cost us this bust… “

“What are we dealing with?”

Nat sighed. She wasn’t normally one to share details, but if you couldn’t trust Captain America… ”People smugglers. My sources suggest they’re moving someone tonight.”

“Jan. Jan’s missing.” Natasha Nodded.

“Look Steve. You can’t just go busting in. Jan’s safe… she’s worth nothing to them dead“ (Captain America really didn’t need to know the vagaries of organ transplants right now) “these guys are small fry. We need to follow them to the buyer.”

“I get it!” Snapped Steve. “But how can we guarantee her safety?”

“Funny you should ask.” Smirked Nat.

* * *

Steve got the gist of the plan. He just needed to let Sinclair hit him with one of her darts and fake passing out. That didn’t seem so bad. He didn’t really understand why he needed to be wearing a mesh shirt and booty shorts to do that, but Nat assured him it was to make him worth the extra risk to Sinclair. Or maybe it was just Nat’s own aesthetic… hard to say.

Either way Sinclair scrambled for her dart gun.

Steve slumped to the floor as soon as the dart hit. It was strong stuff, so while it only put him down for a couple of minutes it was enough to miss Sinclair doing a victory dance, and dragging his body into the elevator (she was surprisingly strong).

“Steve?!?” Was the last thing he heard as the elevator doors closed.


	5. Chapter 5

“You are not.” Snapped Sinclair. ‘Tony Stark is taller and younger.” She eyed him up and down. “… and not as fat.”

Tony gasped at the indignity. Luckily he was a genius so he was able to recover quickly.

“Uh… okay… I’m an impersonator. You would not believe what people are willing to pay to spend an evening with Tony Stank.” The old bat seemed to accept that because she nodded knowingly. Fetishes were the lifeblood of the illegal sex slave industry afterall. “Anyway… I was looking for Steve.”

“No Steve here.” Stated Sinclair. This of course was in direct contradiction to the fact that Tony had just witnessed her manhandle an unconscious Steve into the dumbwaiter.

“Uh...“ Said Tony expertly. “Okay… could I see Jan then?”

“No Jan. No Steve.” Snapped Sinclair.

“Well. Could I rent a room then?” Suggested Tony, pointing at the vacancy sign. “This is a hotel isn’t it? I mean I was going to stay with Jan or Steve but if they left already… I don’t actually know anyone else in New York.”

“No… family or friends?” Suggested Sinclair slyly. At Tony’s ixnay she grinned maniacally. “Come… you poor dear… I’ll make you a cup of tea…”

“I’m more of a coffee drinker.” Suggested Tony.

* * *

“Hello, Buddha? Butterfly here. I’ve got a little bonus on the shipment… a bargain at 5k…” Sincalir looked at Tony who was snoring into a pool of spilled coffee… maybe she’d been a bit heavy handed with the dosage after Steve. “Make that 4k. A little long in the tooth but put him in a dark corner and he could pass for Stark. Plenty of people would pay to rough him up.”

* * *

“Jan!” Whispered Steve urgently from the holding cell next to her own.

“Steve! Isn’t this all terribly exciting?” Squealed Jan in reply.

“Dammit Janet! This is serious! They’re planning to sell us as… slaves… or something.”

Jan scoffed. That was ridiculous of course. She’d make a terrible slave. She didn’t even know how to do laundry (she’d found this out the awkward way when she put that $18 000 designer gown in the coin operated laundry yesterday).

“Don’t be silly Steve.” Jan finally took notice of what Steve was wearing. Oh. That sort of slave. Oh shit.

“Seriously Jan! I can’t spend the rest of my life washing dishes for less than minimum wage!” Continued Steve, who clearly hadn’t aquired a working knowledge of slave types (maybe this was only included in the school curriculum for the wealthy). “Shhh! Someone’s coming! Pretend to be sleeping!”

“Right this way Mister Stank! I’m afraid you’ll have to share a room, we’re quite fully booked.” Laughed Sinclair, amused by her own joke. She lugged Tony’s body to Steve’s cell and pushed him inside, before relocking the door and exiting.

“Tony? Tony!” Managed Steve, slapping his face to try to wake him up. “Jan! They got Tony too!”

“Wargh.” Managed Tony. Years of accumulated alcohol abuse and sleep deprivation had of course led to his being reasonably resistant to sedatives. “Bleghhr…” But not immune apparently. He shook his head a couple of times. “Steeeve?” He managed.

“Tony! Are you okay?” No he was not okay. All he’d wanted to do was come and explain to Steve why he was a better choice for Steve than that weiner Hammer or actual god Thor… but instead he’d been drugged with bad coffee and manhandled by some gorilla woman – and even that one time when he’d paid for the service he’d known it wasn’t his kind of scene.

“M’okay.” Managed Tony instead, because he wasn’t good at whining… well okay, he was exceptional at whining, but he didn’t want to look weak in front of Steve.

“Don’t worry Tony. Jan. My… work-colleague will be here soon. We’ll be fine.” Demurred Steve.

“Hammer?” Demanded Tony, suddenly awake (adrenaline spike?). “You’re relying on Hammer to save us?” He demanded. Because… Hammer?!?! Steve…

“No… uh… I don’t work for Hammer anymore. Someone from my old job.”

“Can’t you just…” Tony gestured at the door of the cell and mimed ripping it off. “Like urgghh and grra and get us out of here?” The memory of the club was burned indeligibly in Tonys brain, largely because he had had several dreams of being urgghh and grra’d into bed by Steve since that very night.

“You quit your new job?” Interrupted Jan, reminding them both she was still there. Because Jan was quite pragmatic about the fact she was not bullet proof and didn’t want to be caught in some kind of half assed break out plan.

“Got fired.” Stated Steve. “It was weird… one minute we were having a friendly conversation about sexual harassment in the workplace and the next…” Steve shrugged. “Rich people are just so… enigmatic.”

“Fair.” Agreed Tony.

“Sorry it didn’t work out Steve.” Cajoled Jan.

“It’s fine. I realized a while ago I didn’t really like Hammer in that way.”

“Maybe Tony can help you find a new job.” She suggested slyly. “Or your old job, I'm sure they’ll be glad to have you back… what did you say you did again?” Suggested Jan.

_Exotic dancer! Exotic dancer!_ Chanted Jan to herself.

_Porn Star! Porn Star!_ Prayed Tony.

“Su…?” Super soldier wasn’t an actual job though, so Steve improvised. “Security!”

Tony nodded. Not as sexy as a porn star, but it did explain the muscles and not wanting a criminal conviction at the club.

“I need security.” Said Tony flatly. “Seriously. Look where I am right now. I totally need a body guard.”

“Don’t worry Tony. We’ll get out of here just fine. My work colleague will get help.”

“Your friend… is calling 911?” Reiterated Jan.

“Well… not friend per se… we used to have the same boss, although we never actually worked together.” Steve mused. At the apparent lack of conviction, he quickly added. “But I’m sure she can be trusted.”

“But the urgghh and grra?” Begged Tony. Because Tony. And Hot.

“No Tony! We wait for the police!” Insisted Jan.


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you think they’ll let me out for a toilet break?” Asked Tony. There was a distinct lack of toilets or… buckets or whatever in the cell. It wasn’t his fault that caffeine was a diuretic.

The asset was early. The mission was to escort the captives back to the hydra base. The mission was not to confront Janet van Dyne designation The Wasp:,threat level: High. Anthony Stark designation Iron Man, threat level: High. Hot Blond designation Beefcake, threat level: Undetermined. The asset noped the hell out of there. The other Hydra operatives were not as quick on the uptake. Which was why they ended up being bludgeoned. Tony gave a satisfied groan as Steve tossed aside the steel baluster.

“Tony! I don’t have much time but I wanted to tell you something before the authorities got here!” Began Steve. “I know about you and Jan…”

“Me and Tony what?” Asked Jan.

“Dating.” Said Steve. Steve wasn’t sure how to interpret Jan’s nose wrinkling up like she’d stepped in a fresh barkers nest while Tony made gagging noises behind him. “What?” He asked.

“Oh. Steve. Baby. Hell to the No.” Said Jan with evident distress. “He’s Tony!”

“Girls. Yucky.” Tony explained succinctly.

“Then… would it be okay if I…” Steve took Tony’s hand. “Would you consider dating me Tony?“

“Uhhhh….” Tony was not sure this was the right time to point out that he had thought they’d been dating for over a week now. “Okay.” He said.

“Do you think we should do something about that now?” Asked Jan. Referring to of course much screaming that was coming from upstairs. Cries with very little context like ‘You no shoot Hulk with dart! Hulk smash!’ and ‘God no Thor! No lightening inside!’ and ‘Has anyone seen my burrito? I had a burrito when I came in…’

“Nah.” Said Tony. “I think we should sit this one out.”

* * *

“Rogers.” Said Fury.

“Good evening, Director Fury.” Said Steve, because there was no reason to be rude.

“Stark. Van dyne. So of all the things I expected to find it wasn’t you three holding cell … care to explain what you're doing here?"

“Oh! I know this one!” Interrupted Tony. “Their names were ‘Manners’ , ‘Shut Up’ and ‘Trouble’. All of a sudden ‘Trouble’ got kidnapped. ‘Shut Up’ was looking out for ‘Manners’ when he went to look for her. When ‘Shut Up’ saw ‘Manners’ disappear, he decided to follow him.”

“What the… Stark, are you looking for trouble?”

“No. I was just trying to mind my manners. Now let me finish my needlessly drawn out analogy.“

“Shut up Stark!”

“Now you’re getting the hang of it!” Declared Tony.

“Rogers. Get out of there.” Demanded Fury.

“Yes sir.” Said Steve, unceremoniously dumping Tony onto the floor (because Shut Up and Manners had been having a very closely matched game of tonsil hockey a few minutes ago - Tony felt he might have had the upper hand in round two, mostly because he planned to do some very unsportsman-like things with his lower hand to distract Steve) “Oh. Uh. Tony, this is Director Fury. Uh. My old boss.”

“You’re shitting me Steve? Do you just have the worst taste in employers or just go with the first one that comes along?” Steve froze. ‘Cause yeah… okay. Fair.

“I thought I was Manners?” Said Steve.

“See? He gets it!” Exclaimed Tony at Fury. “Now point is, I’ve hired Steve to be my bodyguard. We agreed on it. I require at least two weeks notice so its simply impossible for Steve to go with you. And Steve, don’t worry, I have a very progressive policy on workplace relationships. Now. I am currently feeling very unsafe and insecure and hungry for cheeseburgers. So Steve, do the urgghh graa, lets get Janet and get out of here.”

“Yes Sir!” Said Steve.

* * *

“This is… a very nice car Tony.” Stated Steve between kisses.

“Isn’t it though?” Said Jan conversationally. Tony made a shushing noise and pointed her to face the window. Really. Some people had no discretion. He would have made her sit in the front with Happy except Agent Agent was up there discussing whatever it was that security people discussed.

“Is Thor.. uh… allowed to do that?” Asked Steve as Tony fumbled with his belt. “It doesn’t look that safe. Some of the signage around here has pretty low clearance…”

“He’s a literal god Steve, I think he can handle the sunroof.” There was an audible thunk, and crash of lightning outside that suggested otherwise. “Mostly.”

“Stark. Can’t you keep it in your trousers until we at least get back to the tower?” Whined Nat, who was sipping a glass of Dom because it had taken Hawkeye all of 30 seconds to locate the drinks cabinet.

“Uh, excuse you! Nobody asked you to look.” Complained Tony, who had just lost a dental crown ripping Steve’s belt off. Totes worth it though.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing a seatbelt Stark?” Demanded Fury. Because WTF was Fury even doing here? Then again, everyone else had just piled in the limo so it had probably made more sense at the time.

“Uh, shouldn’t you be questioning captives or something Snallygaster?” Snarked Tony. Fury merely shrugged. “Happy? Do we have ejector seats? Is that a real thing in limos or did I see it in a cartoon?”

“It’s not a real thing boss.” Said Happy through the privacy partition.

“Damn. Can we at least break some speed limits or something to get home sooner?”

“Tony! That’s illegal!” Exclaimed Steve. Steve’s words had a particular weight to Tony right at this point in time – not unlike other parts of Steve that Tony was currently fondling, so he didn’t feel the need to incriminate himself further. Frankly if it wasn’t for Thor’s semi-conscious body blocking the Sunroof he probably would have absconded through the sunroof with Steve already. Tony settled for muffling his face in Steve’s pecs and screaming.

**The End**


End file.
